


Neapolitan

by HakeberHooligan



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Flirtatious Stiles, M/M, Multi, helicopter mom Scott
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:21:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24119455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HakeberHooligan/pseuds/HakeberHooligan
Summary: Stiles spots a hottie at the park.That’s it.That’s the fic.
Relationships: Chris Argent/Peter Hale, Chris Argent/Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 33
Kudos: 259





	Neapolitan

**Author's Note:**

> Grudgingly written to appease Sfle 💕 
> 
> I literally just started typing and this is what spewed forth.
> 
> Not beta’d. Hell, not even read over 😂

“Scott! Scott Scott Scott.”

“Stiles, I swear if you slap my arm  _ one  _ more time-”

Stiles stops hitting his best friend’s arm with the back of his hand.

_ “Look  _ at that dude over there!”

Scott turns his head to look across Central Park at the person who captured Stiles’ gaze.  _ Person.  _ More like a fucking  _ god.  _ Stiles wants to lick that broad neck and nibble at that chiseled jawline.

“Yeah, he’s cute I guess.”

“You  _ guess?”  _ Stiles can’t believe his ears. Just because Scott is straight doesn’t mean he can’t actively notice when a man is hotter than sin. “I would let that man do terrible, awful things to me.”

“You can stop now.”

“Like, unspeakable things. Things with leashes and collars and  _ fists-” _

“LA-LA-LAAAA I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” Scott has his fingers shoved in his ears and his eyes squeezed shut.

Honestly, what a man-child. Stiles has to listen to every gross, gooey, gushing declaration of love that Scott is constantly spouting about Kira, so Stiles can have a little drool over a good-looking middle-aged man, as a treat.

Stiles spins around on the picnic bench, leaning against the table and shamelessly ogling. The summer sun is bright in the sky, and sweat makes the man’s tank top stick to his frame in the  _ best  _ way. He’s at the ice cream stand, patiently waiting his turn. He looks like he just got done with a run. If this is what the park has to offer, Stiles is coming more often.

“I’m gonna go introduce myself,” Stiles says.

“LA-LA- wait, what?” Scott unplugs his ears. “Dude, no. You can’t just pick up some random guy- Stiles!”

Stiles is already standing, confidently walking around couples picnicking and dogs playing frisbee. Stiles has always been a go-getter. There’s no harm in flirting, right?

He gets there just as the man steps up to order.

“Two cones please, both vanilla.” The man says, placing a five on the counter and stepping aside.

“You’re far too fuckable to be sticking with vanilla,” Stiles says, sidling up to him.

A woman behind him shoots Stiles the dirtiest look imaginable and steers her son to the neighboring ice cream stand.

The man arches an eyebrow and looks Stiles up and down judgmentally. Looks like that used to bother Stiles, but they don’t anymore. He’ll either be rejected or invited to continue.

“Vanilla has its place,” the man finally says. “Besides, they don’t sell my preferred flavor.”

Stiles is in lust. This man talks smoothly and is looking at him with a touch of cunning that leaves Stiles wanting more.

“What flavor would that be?” Stiles asks, waggling his eyebrows and stepping closer.

Just then another man walks up, resting an arm on the small of Vanilla’s back.  _ Maaaaan.  _ Stiles wants to pout, because not only is he taken, he’s taken by a fucking  _ smoking  _ silver fox-looking dude.

“Who’s your friend, Peter?” Silver Fox asks, smirking at Stiles from over his shoulder.

“I haven’t gotten a name yet, Christopher,” Peter replies with a smirk of his own. “I was just telling him how my favorite ice cream is neapolitan. Three unique flavors, all combining into one delectable dessert.”

_ Oh.  _ So that’s how it is.

Stiles is rarely struck speechless. He can count on his fingers how many times in his life he’s been unable to quip on the spot. It’s one of the leading factors that stopped bullies from messing with him in school. Once they realized that they’d never outdo him with comebacks and witty remarks, the bullying had stopped. Being embarrassed in front of your friends by the nerdy kid was the peak of embarrassment at Beacon Hills. Years later, he’s still going strong.

Until now.

Because what he has right here is two of the hottest dudes he’s seen in real life, using ice cream analogies to lure him back to their lair. And  _ fuck  _ it’s working.

Chris chuckles.

“I think you broke him, Peter.”

Peter cocks his head curiously.

“Oh, I think he can be pushed so much further before he breaks.”

“Break me,” Stiles finally says, shaken out of his stupor, only to utter the first thought that hits his mind.

That’s when Scott comes bounding up, probably assuming he’s  _ saving  _ Stiles or some stupid shit like that.

“Stiles! Time to go. Kira’s going to meet us-”

“Cool, Scott, yeah, go to Kira. I’m all set,” Stiles gives him the  _ look,  _ but Scott’s constipated look in return tells Stiles that he isn’t going to willingly let Stiles run off with two strangers.

_ “Stiles,”  _ Peter says, drawing back his attention. “Would you accompany Chris and I to the Italian restaurant on the corner? We were headed over there for lunch.”

The look Chris gives Stiles speaks of hunger, but not for pasta.

“Yes! Italian!” Stiles turns to look at Scott. “How pedestrian and  _ public.  _ Sounds delightful.”

He stares Scott down, willing him to give up just as desperately as he’s willing his boner to just  _ stay down, boy. _

“I… guess, that’s fine,” Scott says slowly, chewing his cheek. “Call me in an hour?”

“Awesome, yes, will do Scott,” Stiles says, grinning madly. Scott narrows his eyes, but ultimately turns around to walk back across the park. Stiles wants to squeal like a girl.

“Two vanilla cones,” the man at the ice cream stand says loudly.

“You can give them to someone else,” Peter says smoothly. “Turns out vanilla wasn’t in today’s itenerary.”

He turns, gripping Chris’ hand and leading him away.

“Are you coming, pet?” He calls over his shoulder. “You’re calling your friend in an hour, and it takes twenty minutes to get to the penthouse from here.”

Stiles nearly trips in his excitement to follow.

_ Best. Day. Ever.  _

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not condone Stiles’ actions 😂 Don’t run off with hot strangers.


End file.
